Tomb Raider: Quest for the Chalice
by firithvilyaien
Summary: 5 months after the events in Prague, Lara winds up working for some dude who wants to get his hands on the Holy Grail... arghhh... i suck at this but pls. rate


It should've been dead…

Dead. It was impossible to survive such a huge explosion, yet it did. It was awake, looking around him, seeing if there was any sign of life at all. He saw a blackened skeleton with a bit of charred skin on it.

'Killed that little bugger myself!' it thought proudly, its black eyes staring at something else.

A corpse, a lot like a human's, but quite different. This corpse was taller than humans, uglier, and it had wacky hair.

Yet… he felt life in it. Slight, thump-thumps of the heart (if it had one), and heavy breathing. The active one, looked at the body and gave a low smile. There was a disk-like object on the body's ankle and took it off.

'Life is funny' It thought, as he carried the body over his shoulder. 'But death is even funnier.'

He walked with seemingly dead thing on his shoulder to where the exit was.

If someone had asked for her five months before, Lara would go berserk and ram the phone on the wall 15 times. Don't ask why, she'd do it again, except she'd ram it on you.

Or so she thought. Certainly she'd find something better to do to ease her distraught mind. Perhaps she'd listen to some Mozart while shooting moving Cheop busts…

No, too noisy. The therapist will most likely object…

'What the hell!' Lara asked, bewildered. She was in the library of her home of course. Apparently she fell asleep while she was reading Greek history. An old man came in with a concerned look on his face.

'Sorry to disturb you, Miss Croft, but a man is asking for you, on the phone.' Winston said uneasily as he gave Lara the phone. He knew he shouldn't worry by now, but she has been really tired lately.

She took it from his hand. 'Who?' she asked, full of hope. _I need to see him again._

'Sir Angus St. Clair.'

Lara's face grimaced. 'Oh.'

The butler looked at his watch with that same uneasiness and said that it was time for tea. Lara excused him and he went off.

'Hello?'

'Lady Croft?' a thick English voice said on the other line.

'Yes. Sir St. Clair?'

An explosive and nauseating laugh on the other end. 'Please, call me Angus. No need for formalities here.'

_Ugh… what were his parents thinking, calling him ANGUS!_

Lara returned his laugh with a soft giggle. 'Then please call me Lara then.' She replied and panicked a bit… that sounded very artificial, even for her.

'Yes of course', Angus said happily, then his voice turned a little more serious. 'I have a proposal to make.'

Lara was listening intently to the sudden intensity of his voice.

'I cannot talk about it on the phone, but I invite you to the Sydney Opera House this Tuesday, or Monday to Merry England, so we can have a chat about it.'

'Why can't we talk about it on the phone?' Lara asked interested, nothing's wrong with talking on the phone.

'You simply couldn't trust modern technology for security anymore. Listen, the Sydney Symphony is actually playing there on Tuesday, I think their playing Vivaldi's work or Mozart's. Doesn't matter actually, both composers are amazing. But please do come; I'll pay for the flight expenses and for the opera ticket. Say you'll come, please?'

_Like a child… pathetic. _'Alright, if you so insist. When do I leave?'

'Five days from now… Sunday for you?'

'Yes.'

'Will you be flying first class?' he asked nicely.

Lara swallowed what was supposed to be a sigh. 'I suppose.'

'Then I'll see you then? Thank you.' He said sincerely.

'Don't mention it.'

BANG! BANG! BANG!

'He asked me to go to Sydney, so we could talk.'

'About what?" Bryce asked, playing some computer game.

'He didn't tell.' Lara said, pistols in hand and shooting Cheop busts.

'Something important, or just something he thinks is important?'

BANG!

'He didn't tell.' She reloaded her pistols.

'Oh well… secretive bugger ain't he? Where's Hilary? He's not here. I just noticed it now.'

'I gave him a vacation, went to Colchester to visit his aunt.'

'So you hired old Winston back eh?' He looked at Lara with that smug face of his.

'More like I asked him, as a personal favor.' Lara continued shooting busts, ignoring Bryce.

'These pistols feel different.'

'Ah! You noticed! Tweaked them a bit, made them shoot more accurately'

So you say better guns make a better shooter?'

'The obvious fact!'

Lara gave him a rancid smile and took off, living the pistols on the tray.

SYDNEY OPERA HOUSE, SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA—8:00PM, TUESDAY.

Lara entered the private balcony; she left her ticket to the man who guarded it and started listening to the Sydney Symphony.

A few minutes later, St. Clair entered, with a beautiful blonde clutching his arm.

Sir Angus St. Clair. Tall. Dark hair, dark brown. In his early fifties. A tub of lard who brags a lot about his rich blood lines (I was descended from the Merovingians!). Since he brags about the rich history in his last name, he has spent his life trying to find all the wealth that his family hid from the world. _Le Preure de Sion_ (or so he claims).

He's a nuisance to the archaeology union, yes; but nobody's stopping him.

'Ah Lara! You made it! Please, make yourself at home and listen to some of Vivaldi's greatest works. By the way, this is Marie, my… friend.' He said, that thick voice of his all jolly.

'A pleasure to meet you Miss Croft.' The blonde said in English with a pleasant accented voice and pleasant smile, holding her elegant hands.

Lara shook them. 'And you, Miss Marie…'

'Renoir.'

'French?'

'Yes.' She said softly.

'Well then, let's watch the show.' St. Clair interrupted.

30 minutes later, Lara inquired St. Clair why he asked for her in the first place. St. Clair nodded his head and requested Marie to leave them alone.

'I'll be back at 9:00' Marie said, walking out of the balcony.

The Symphony was now playing Danube…a sleepy melody.

'Alright Miss Croft.' He started, staring at his plump fingers. He wore an emerald and gold ring on his ring finger.

'I know you know a lot about the Holy Grail.'

Lara nodded her head, unsure of what she heard. _What did he want with it?_

'Do you believe it exists?' he asked, staring at her face coldly.

Lara shook her head. 'I'm not that sure, I read a lot about the subject though… including that book by… who was that again?'

'Dan Brown?' St. Clair offered.

'Yes. How the Grail is supposed to be Mary Magdalene, wife of Jesus, sacred feminine and the exalted one of the Priory of Sion.'

'And do you believe the countless authors who wrote books about the topic and claiming the same thing as Mr. Brown did?'

'I suppose… their research is… above reproach.'

St. Clair laughed, a soft cold laugh. He then simmered down and cleared his voice.

'Those bastard researchers don't know history! Even that fag da Vinci doesn't know history!'

Lara looked stunned.

'All those books, Miss Croft, are lies. Their so-called "facts" are nothing but hogwash! Cold attacks to the church. Why, the Holy Grail is just a cup! A cup!

_A cup… _


End file.
